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"I told you, you can find your way on your own. I'm not one of your Trailblazers, March."
On the winding streets of Boulder Town, a man and a woman walked side-by-side. Kenta led the way, his face a mask of weary compromise, while the girl beside him radiated a smug, victorious energy.
March 7th looked entirely justified in her demands. She planted her hands on her hips, her pink hair bobbing as she huffed. "This is compensation! You took advantage of me back at the clinic, so now you're my official guide. It's only fair!"
Kenta sighed. Truly, she was the poster girl of the Astral Express—vibrant, invincible, and possessing a logic that was impossible to argue with. How could a man expect a "beautiful, youthful girl" to forgive a sudden ankle-grab without a little community service?
Though he grumbled, Kenta had already tacitly accepted his fate. He was currently scouting for any sign of Dan Heng and the blue-haired vulture, but after a lap around the main square, the pair was nowhere to be found.
"Hey, rotten Kenta," March said, nudging him with her elbow. "Are you sure you don't know where Sampo took him? You're the 'local big shot,' aren't you? How can you be so useless?"
Kenta scoffed, his tone dry as bone. "Still better than being a certain silly, pink-haired amnesiac."
March froze for a heartbeat before her face flushed with indignation. "Who are you calling a pink-haired idiot!"
"If the shoe fits..."
Like two children bickering on a playground, they traded barbs while navigating the rusted alleys. Their faces drew closer as the argument heated up, but before any romantic tension could even think about manifesting, a child's scream tore through the air, followed by the mechanical roar of an engine.
"Ahhh!!! Out of the way! Brakes are for losers!"
March spun toward the sound, only to see a strange, wheeled machine—half-drill, half-chaos—attached to a small girl's hand, hurtling toward her. At that speed, the girl couldn't dodge in time.
In one fluid motion, Kenta reached out. He caught March's hand and pulled her back, his other arm wrapping around her waist to steady her. Instead of the impact of cold steel, March found herself falling into a firm, warm embrace.
"See? Clumsy," Kenta murmured, a hint of amusement dancing in his dark red eyes. He held her just long enough to ensure she was balanced before letting go.
March stepped out of his arms, her cheeks tinged with a faint, embarrassed pink. "Actually, I'm a Pathstrider. It wouldn't have mattered if I got hit. My shield would have... probably... handled it."
"Right. Your mouth is the only part of you that's truly indestructible." Kenta raised his hands in mock surrender.
But his attention shifted. A wicked, opportunistic grin spread across his face as he walked toward the little girl who had nearly caused the pile-up. He rubbed his hands together like a villain in a silent film. "Hehe, let's see which unlucky brat I get to extort for emotional damages today..."
However, when he got close enough to see the teary, aggrieved face of the culprit, he went numb.
Before seeing the target: Profitable (ᐢ ᴖ · ̫ ᴖ ᐢ)After seeing the target: Defeated (￣ m ￣)*
Kenta's dreams of a quick credit-shakedown evaporated. He poked Hook's forehead grumpily. "Hook! I told you not to drive the Digertron in the middle of town! You almost flattened a guest!"
Hook sniffled, looking genuinely sheepish. "I'm sorry, Honorary Member. Please don't be angry. Pitch-Dark Hook the Great was just testing the... torque."
Kenta sighed and pulled March forward. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to this older sister."
March 7th quickly waved her hands. "It's okay! No harm done. You're quite the driver, little one."
Hook breathed a sigh of relief, but then her expression shifted. She propped her chin on her hand, scrutinizing March from head to toe with the terrifyingly sharp gaze of a precocious child.
"Um... is there something on my clothes?" March asked, feeling a bit self-conscious.
Hook nodded solemnly, as if confirming a high-level conspiracy. "Hello! I am Black Hook! Pretty big sister, you don't look like you're from around here. You must be Honorary Member Kenta's girlfriend from the Upper District!"
Chop!
Kenta delivered a swift, painless strike to the top of Hook's hat. "You little rascal, where do you get this nonsense? I don't have a girlfriend!"
"Don't lie to me, Honorary Member!" Hook cried, clutching her head. "Sister Seele told me! She said every time you go to the Overworld, you go to see that 'bad woman.' She said the woman's name was... Bronya?"
Kenta's face went dark. He did indeed look for Bronya whenever he was above ground, but usually from a distance. How did Seele know the specifics?
Seele is talking nonsense, he muttered, feeling a cold sweat. Did I mention Bronya to her? Or is there a leak? (Somewhere, Sampo Koski was likely counting a stack of credits. Information on Kenta? That'll cost you extra, sister!)
March 7th, however, had caught a keyword. Her eyes lit up with curiosity, and she delivered another elbow to Kenta's ribs. "Hey. Who's Seele? Are you two 'close'?"
"It's nothing," Kenta said, his tone clipped and uninformative. "You don't know her."
March 7th pouted, her exuberant mood suddenly dipping into something cooler and more irritable. "Hmph. If you don't want to tell me, then don't. This girl doesn't even want to know!"
She turned her head away, unaware that her sudden annoyance was visible to everyone but Kenta.
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